


Don't Wake Up (you won't like what you see)

by OnceAndFloral



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: A lot of pain, F/M, Madeline's last name is blanc fight me, Multi, Panic Attacks, Superpowers, Testing - Freeform, Torture, i'll add tags as i go, it's abusive, kind of, please ask questions if you're confused!!, testing facility au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-11-12 16:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAndFloral/pseuds/OnceAndFloral
Summary: Being different isn't always a good thing.





	1. Chapter 1

Michael looked around at all the other kids sitting in the drab room with him. The tension in the air was palpable, pressing down on his shoulders like weights. According to the calendar it was Friday. Friday was the day everyone hated. Feared.

Brooke was sitting cross legged on the floor, tracing lazy figure eights with her finger on the cold linoleum. Intricate white patterns trailed behind her fingertip for a few moments before fading away, only to be replaced once again as she retraced the spot. Chloe sat in a seat next to Brooke’s spot on the floor, tapping her foot impatiently.

Jenna sat in the dead center of the room, fiddling with bits of circuit board and wires. Every now and then something would make a low, melodic humming sound that would die off with a strangled electric sound. When this happened Jenna’s expression soured and she’d wave her hand over the small machine and it would fall apart or morph in some strange way. Christine stood nearby, watching idly.

In one of the far corners Jeremy was curled up in Jake’s lap, trying to make himself appear as small as possible while Rich gently tapped his knuckles on the wall. And gently by Rich’s standards meant there was a dent in the wall. Michael sighed, leaning back in his seat. They were all a mess.

There was a knock at the door. Michael looked away from his friends. A woman in a crisp white lab coat stood in the doorway, a clipboard in her hands. Her face was somber, emotionless. “You know the drill.” She glanced down at clipboard. “Jeremy Heere.”

Michael saw Chloe’s chest deflate as she sigh in relief, only for Brooke to nudge her harshly with her elbow. Chloe cast her eyes to the floor as Jeremy curled in on himself even tighter in the corner.

“Jeremy you've gotta get up.” Jake murmured, shaking the scrawny boy. Jeremy made a small whining sound. “Please, you know it's only gonna be worse if you try to fight them.”

When Jeremy made no move to get up, Jake sighed and rose to his feel, hauling Jeremy up with him. Rich took over from Jake, slowly leading a more than hesitant Jeremy over to the woman waiting impatiently at the door. “I know you're scared.” He said. “It's pretty fucking scary man.”

“Language, Goranski.” The woman snapped. She grabbed Jeremy's arm and started leading him back down where she came from. Michael felt a twinge in his chest when he saw Jeremy flinch in pain.

The heavy metal door slammed shut loudly behind him. Silence wrapped around the room again. Bile rose up Michael's throat. 

“God fucking damn it!” There was a loud crash as Rich pounded his fist into the wall. Brooke jumped, almost falling over in surprise.

“Rich!” Chloe snapped. “Calm the fuck down!”

“ _Ten years_ , Chloe.” Rich seethed. “I’ve been bottling this shit up for _ten years_ so you could at least let me have this.” 

Everyone except Jake looked to the ground or wall in shame. Rich had been the first person to be dropped into this hellhole after he turned his school into a pile of rubble and ashes at the young age of seven. Jake was close in tow after that. 

Michael himself had been here for three years, and those three years had been full of pain. Because he wasn’t “natural”. None of them were.

He stared at the dent in the wall from when the angry teen had punched it, a five foot by five foot circle in solid metal. Richard Goranski, found in a small New Jersey town with paranormal strength and pyrokinetic skills. Michael was pulled out of his head by Rich’s screaming rant.

“I mean, hey, you can tell someone to jump off a cliff and they’ll fucking do it, right? Well, we better stick you with needles every week so maybe we’ll understand that!”

Chloe’s shoulders tensed up. Brooke started to speak up. “Rich, I don’t think you should bring up-”

“What about Christine, huh?” The short girl looked around nervously at the mention of her name. “Come see the amazing girl who can sound like anyone! Oh wait, you can’t because she’s being refused basic human rights!”

“What’s so different about today, huh?” Chloe yelled. “Jeremy’s been here for eight years, this isn’t the first time he’s gotten a Friday Test! They didn’t even say anything different today!”

Rich went silent. He retreated back to his seat next to the wall, gently tapping at it again. Chloe was fuming now too. “You can’t just do that Rich! Explode on us and when I ask you a legitimate question just retreat into your fucking shell!”

“Chloe please…” Jake muttered, face buried in his hand. Brooke slipped her hand into Chloe’s, giving her a begging look.

She growled. “Fine!”

The tension returned full force. Michael looked down at the worn out copy of the Lord of the Rings in his lap, fingers itching to leaf mindlessly through the pages, to let the happy memory attached to the book take over his mind and distract himself from the pain around him.

But Jeremy and Jake always said psychometric visions shouldn’t be his escape from reality, so maybe not. He slowly exhaled, trying to calm his shot nerves. 

It wasn’t working. Michael could feel frigid cold radiating from Brooke nearby, sinking into his skin. Frosty patterns spread across the floor from where she stood as Christine started to try and comfort her. He inched a bit closer to Rich and his constant source of body heat.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

It was fairly late when the door of the commons room reopened. Michael shot up from his seat, carefully placing his book on a table. Jeremy was shoved in through the door roughly, small noises of pain escaping his mouth.

Jake rushed over as Jeremy began to sway on his feet. He managed to wrap his arms around the shorter boy before Jeremy keeled over, on the verge of unconsciousness. Michael sprinted over to their side, gently patting Jeremy’s cheek. 

“Jeremy. Jeremy, don’t go to sleep.” Michael hissed softly. “If you go to sleep now you’re not going to wake up for another day, and you know what happened last time.”

The scrawny teenager was pale and gasping for air, one hand gripping Jake’s weakly. “Hurts.”

“I know, I know.” Michael bit down on his lip. “Just keep talking, okay?”

“Hurts to do that too.”

“Please, Jeremy, just do this for me.” 

Jeremy let out a whine of pain. “Are you really sure this is a good time to try and keep him awake?” Jake asked quietly. “It seems like today’s test was really bad.”

“They’re always really bad, Jake. We kept Brooke awake last week, we can do it this week.”

Another high pitched noise drew Michael’s attention back to Jeremy. “C-can’t breathe…”

“Oh, Jere, what’d they do?”

“N-no oxygen. They told-told me to make my own.”

Ah, yes. Jeremy’s reality manipulation powers that the facility seemed so interested in. Recently they had been trying to get him to create matter as the kid hadn’t seemed to be able to get past bending the laws of physics. It wasn’t uncommon to see Jeremy sitting on walls as though they were the floor, but he nearly started crying in happiness when he created a pebble out of thin air. Considering the limits of his abilities, it shouldn’t be that exciting, but Jeremy wasn’t all that great at controlling his power.

Apparently that lead to him behind deprived of the ability to fucking breathe.

“Come on.” Jake shook Jeremy gently as the shorter boy’s eyes started to roll back in his head. “Just an hour or two, love.”

Jeremy buried his face in Jake’s chest, shoulders shaking. Michael’s stomach dropped and his heart seized. He looked around at the other teenagers around him, all broken with sagging shoulders. He still felt a dull ache in his elbow from all the blood that had been drawn and the chemicals pumped into his body.

They needed to get out of here.


	2. Dustin and Madeline

The words on the files around Dustin began to blur together as he stared at them. Slips of paper were scattered around his and Madeline’s shared apartment like a whirlwind had hit.

Brooke Lohst, admitted age eleven, cryokinesis. 

Chloe Valentine, admitted age eleven, charmspeaking.

Jenna Rolan, admitted age fifteen, technopathy.

Jeremy Heere, admitted age nine, reality manipulation.

More and more words, all piling up on top of each other, making Dustin feel hopelessly buried. _They already knew all of this_. What was the point of stealing these files if they didn't fucking learn anything?

“You're doing the thing again.” He looked up to see Madeline standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised in concern.

“What thing?”

“The thing where you get hyper-fixated on helping people and then you start getting pissed slash panicked because you don't know how you're going to help them.”

“I don't do that.”

“You just did, Dusty.” Madeline cleared away some of the papers on the couch and plopped down. There were a few moments of silence.

“How are you feeling today?” Dustin asked quietly. Madeline raised a hand, showing off the pink bracelet wrapped around it. “Ah, got it.”

She groaned as she peeled herself off the couch to stand once more. “Alright, let's go. It's Friday and I know you're going to want to help with the pain.”

Dustin nodded as Madeline ran her hands through her hair, bright red replacing the normal dark color. Once she got to the ends, it appeared to grow by at least three inches. She sighed. “Remind me why I have to do this again?”

“You were fired last week and then you got yourself rehired as a redhead.” Dustin explained. Madeline let out another exaggerated sigh.

“Yea, I know, I was just hoping it’d feel better if you explained it instead of my brain.”

“Did it work?”

“God no. I’m not a redhead kind of person.”

Dustin chuckled, pulling on a jacket. “For a shapeshifter, you don’t like most of your phones.”

Madeline placed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “I thought you’d known this by now. I don’t shapeshift, _Dustin_ , I can change my appearance. I’m not about to turn into a fucking gerbil.”

“Mhm.” Dustin hummed. “How many times have we had this conversation?”

“I believe it’s now twenty two times.”

* * *

Dustin hated being in the facility. It was too cramped in some places, and too cold everywhere. Once Dustin had gotten the night shift, and he could hear the screams as some of the teenagers trapped inside the tiny bedrooms woke up from nightmares, and there was nothing else Dustin wanted more than to break in and _do_ something.

But that wasn’t the plan. He and Madeline were charged with collecting information until they had enough break everyone out. So Dustin would sit in on tests, trying to keep physical contact to numb the pain they experienced.

That was Dustin’s power. Negation of pain. Or at least to dull it. It killed him that he couldn’t do anything else at times, just watch and hope for the best.

“You’re late.” Dustin flinched at the cold sound of Squip’s voice. The head of the facility wasn’t exactly a charitable person.

“I, uh, slept in.” He tried to keep his gaze away from the taller man, as if that would protect him.

“Don’t do that again. Come this way. Today’s test requires the viewing room.”

Fuck. This wasn’t going to be good. “Uh, who is week’s subject?”

“Stop stuttering, Dustin, it’s unattractive and takes up time.”

He flinched. “Sorry.”

A heavy sigh. “It’s the reality manipulator. He hasn’t been showing signs of developing his powers, so we’re going to see if putting him under threat forces him to manifest substances. Here, it’s all on the sheet.”

Squip tossed the clipboard back to Dustin. The boy scrambled to catch it before it clattered to the floor. He glanced at the crisp black text against the pure white paper. It was clinical, artificial. Uncomfortable.

He read over the summary and felt his heart stop in his chest. There was no way they could do this. It was cruel.

When they stepped into the control room Dustin felt ice running through his veins. Through the viewing window into the other room he could see the reality manipulator (Jeremy. His name was Jeremy, for Christ’s sake) sitting in the middle of the blanket room, alone and shaking. 

“You’ll be working the control panel today.” Squip deadpanned, walking over to the intercom microphone. “I imagine you can handle at least that.”

“Yes.” Dustin nodded, sitting down at the panel and trying to ignore how his hands were shaking.

There was a crackling noise as Squip pressed down on the intercom button. “Jeremy, today we’re testing your ability to create matter yourself.” A confused frown crossed the boy’s face. “We’re going to vent the oxygen out of the room and you’re just going to have to make some yourself, alright?” All of the color drained from Jeremy’s skin, leaving him with a pallor and terrified appearance. Squip lifted his finger from the button and nodded to Dustin. “You can start now.”

He bit down on his tongue, flipping switches slowly. He hated Fridays, he hated Fridays, he hated Fridays… Just put your mind somewhere else. That stupid board game night Madeline made him participate in once a month. Fuck, when he got out of his parents’ house.

It wasn’t working. Dustin couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene through the window. Jeremy’s eyes were wide and one of his hands clutched at his throat, mouth slightly agape as he searched for the air that wasn’t there. It was bad enough that Dustin couldn’t be there to take away his pain, but being the cause of it was just killing him. Being an intern was actually going to be the death of him.

“Sir,” Dustin spoke up after about twenty seconds. “I don’t think he can do this.”

“Give him a few more seconds.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think he can _take_ a few more seconds.”

Silence. No, no, no, Squip wouldn’t give up their test subject, right? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… 

“Alright. That’s enough.” Squip sighed. Dustin scrambled to vent oxygen back in, watching Jeremy’s chest heave as he drew air back into his lungs.

Dustin sighed in relief. Oh thank god. “What other tests do we-”

“Let him recover for a few minutes and then repeat the process.” Squip cut him off. 

“But sir, there’s no way that can be good for him!”

“We’re not worried about what’s _good_ for them, Dustin. We’re worried about getting results. Now, I’m going to step out for some coffee, and when I come back in five minute’s we’re going to repeat the test again.”

Something thick and hard rose up Dustin’s throat. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

Madeline stared at the road as Dustin rested his head on her shoulder, hands gripping the wheel until her knuckles were white. The two sat in silence until the grey building of the testing facility was out of view.

“So how was your day?” Madeline asked.

“I nearly killed a killed a kid, Mads. It wasn’t very good.”

“You’re just a kid too.”

“So are you.”

Another period of science. “I’m sorry, Dustin. I know how bad Fridays are for your section.”

He sighed. “We’re gonna get them out though. We have to. No one deserves to live like that.”

Madeline nodded, grip on the wheel relaxing by a fraction. “Yea. You in the mood for McDonald’s for dinner tonight?”

“Make it Wendy’s and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe that ending wasn't as serious as it should have been. But!! Soft friendship between Madeline and Dustin! I love them.
> 
> Kudos are always appreciated and comments basically make my week.


	3. Phsychometry

Michael’s favorite day was Sunday, the lazy day where they were just thrown into a room and allowed to do whatever they wanted with the chairs and tables. Which, to be fair, wasn’t much, but it was just to just do nothing instead of going through mentally and physically exhausting tests or waiting for someone to get out of a Friday Test.

Saturdays were reserved for taking that week’s Friday Test victim and observing any changes possibly caused by the previous day’s activities. It was never as bad as Friday, but it was exhausting and took a toll on someone to be locked up in a room by themselves all day.

So Sundays were good days. The days when Brooke made a snowman in the corner of the room because she felt like it, or Jenna would make the intercom play “Take On Me” when Chloe got restless from sitting still.

Rich and Jake were curled up around a sleeping and trembling Jeremy, all lost in their own little bubble. When Michael had first arrived to this god forsaken place, the three had been close knit friends for years and Michael was the odd one out. It took a while for them to trust him, but they eventually took him in as one of their own. However, during moments like this, Michael once again felt as though he wasn’t quite as close as the other.

It was a stupid kind of jealousy, but it was jealousy nonetheless. He sighed as Christine sat down next to him, yawning. “Morning Michael. Why aren’t you with your boyf-”

“Shh!” Michael hissed, gesturing wildly at the camera in the corner. “Turn around, Chrissy. The camera can read your lips”

“Oh, right.” Christine twisted away from the camera. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“I just don’t want _them_ to fucking exploit that shit. Especially with Jeremy and Jake’s powers.” Michael clasped his hands together, taking a shaky breath. 

She nodded. “I get it. At least you guys can admit it to each other unlike _some_ people.” Christine tilted her head in the direction of Brooke and Chloe, who were dancing to the song Jenna had playing through the intercom.

“I don’t really know if I belong with them Christine…” Michael mumbled. 

“What?!” Christine’s shout drew the attention of Jenna and the boys. Rich shushed her angrily, making small gestures to Jeremy’s sleeping form. “Sorry, Rich!” She turned back to Michael. “Are you kidding me? You guys are so cute together!”

“But they just… Sometimes it seems like they’re perfectly happy without me.”

Christine let out a strained laugh. “Kind of hard to be happy in a place like this. But you make them happy, Michael. Really.”

“I…” Michael smiled tiredly. “Thanks. I guess I just needed to hear that.”

“No problem Mikey, that's what friends are-” Christine was cut off by the sound of the commons door opening. The music from the intercom fizzled out into static, an icy chill settling over the room that Michael somehow knew wasn't from Brooke.

Squip stood on the doorway, idly tapping a pen to a clipboard. “I'm going to need to take Jeremy Heere.”

In the corner, Jeremy started waking up at the sound of his name. Rich quickly covered his eyes, earning an annoyed and confused sound.

“You just took him yesterday.” Jenna frowned.

“New regiment for rigorous testing. We're extending it to three days. One of you can look forward to that next Friday.”

“Well why's the big kahuna the one taking him today?” Rich snapped. “What happened to your lackies?”

“Enough questions.” Squip glided over to the small group in the corner, movements eerily smooth and calculated. They grabbed Jeremy's wrist and yanked him up and away from Rich and Jake, already dragging him back to the door.

“You can't just do that!” Michael shouted. “He's exhausted, he can't-”

“I find I don't care.”

Jeremy's eyes were wide, darting around the room as if to try and find something he could use to defend himself. A pale, shaking hand extended towards Michael, and he was going to be damned if he didn't take it.

The moment Michael's fingers wrapped around Jeremy's wrist, electricity seemed to race up his arms and into his spine. Energy buzzed at the base of his skull and the world was suddenly overcome by a flash of bright white light.

_Michael was at the front doors of the facility, a sight he had only seen once. The edges of everything sharpened and blurred randomly, as if he was viewing the world through a camera that someone was messing with the focus._

_There were five people standing at the doors. Squip was one of the people Michael recognized, along with the uniforms of the guards at either side of them. In front of them stood a young lady, late twenties at best. She held the hand of a small child who couldn't be older than nine, though it looked more like she was just letting the child hold _her_ hand._

_“And I will get paid for this?” She asked. The world finally settled into proper focus as she spoke._

_“Of course, compensation will arrive in about two weeks after you hand him over.” Squip replied, a smirk playing at their lips._

_“Alright.” She sighed. Honestly, looking at her, she looked a lot like a older version of Jeremy if he was female._

_With a start, Michael realized that was Jeremy's mother, and that child at her side_ was _Jeremy. But that meant…_

_“You can take him.” She shook off Jeremy's hand, nudging him towards Squip and the guards._

_Jeremy looked back at his mother, fear in his eyes. “But I don't…”_

_“Come on kid.” One of the guards tried to take his wrist, but Jeremy yanked it away._

_“I don't want to go.”_

_Squip shot a questioning look at Jeremy's mother, who merely sighed. “I don't care what you do with him at this point.”_

_They nodded to the guards. The two men started trying to retrained Jeremy, but the kid fought hard, screaming and crying and begging for his mother to help him._

_The entire world seemed shake and blur at certain locations. This didn't just seem to be Michael, as everyone else was reacting to it as well._

_“You never said he could do this!” Squip yelled._

_“I didn't know he_ could _do this!” Jeremy's mother shouted back._

_Jeremy's cries for help grew louder, and somehow Michael knew that the world was tearing itself apart at the seams._

_Small pieces of his vision started cracking and fading away, bit by bit until…_

_“This is why we didn't want you!” Jeremy's mother screamed._

_Everything snapped back into place as Jeremy fell silent. The world returned to focus and stilled as he went limp. He looked absolutely broken as he stared almost through his mother. Needless to say, the guards easily dragged him inside._

_“Thank you for your contribution, Mrs. Heere.” Squip said._

_Everything started burning in from around the edges, almost as if Michael's vision was a photograph that had been tossed into a fire. What was going on, what did he do he needed to help Jeremy._

Michael gasped as the real world rushed at him from every angle. He dropped Jeremy's wrist, the energy in his spine replaced with absolute exhaustion. Squip stared at him for a few seconds before beginning to drag Jeremy off again.

“No-!” Michael choked out. He took a step, but his legs refused to hold his weight as he collapsed to the floor.

“Michael, what's wrong?” Christine started to reach a hand for his shoulder, but Michael scrambled away from it.

“Don't touch me! I don't know what I'll…” Michael didn't know what he'd see. What had just happened. He was used to psychometric visions, but not from a _living creature_. They didn't normally leave him so exhausted afterwards either.

He could still feel the panic of child Jeremy from the vision, all encompassing and _world destroying_. Fuck, Jeremy! Squip took him, Michael needed to…

No matter how much he tried to move, he was stuck in place. The panic kept growing until there was only one phrase being repeated in Michael's head like a mantra

_What had he just seen?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O o p s I haven't posted in forever so have some angst. Hope y'all liked that shit.
> 
> Catch me on Tumblr, I moved to squip-grandma


End file.
